The stork who offered to take me to my parents house turned out to be horribly cross-eyed. He ended up dropping me off outside the childrens home, the daft old bird. Thats when everything started to go awry.
By the time Im forty, Ive finally hauled myself out of the hole that foolish stork landed me in. Ive built a house, found myself a wife, bought a careven if its second-hand. Theres only planting something left, and raising someone.
With Jane, I reckon well manage to raise one on our own. Never thought about a second, to be honest.
Its planting seasons, growth, and this miserable rainy morning thats on my mind as I stir my coffee. A draught is gently fluttering my boxer shorts on the radiator. I had boxers long before I ended up with a familyfunny, really.
A tapping comes at the balcony window. Kids again, out there teaching pigeons a lesson with pebbles? What they need is a good stork after them, little hooligans.
Another tap. Then another. Whos out there? Im three floors up.
I pull the curtain aside. On the balcony is that same cross-eyed stork from childhood daydreams.
“Clear off, you crazy thing!” I shout, startled. My toast dives head-first to the floor.
“Sorry, mate,” the stork slides his long neck through the gap in the balcony door, “My fault, I know it. Have a go if you wantright wings bigger.”
“Get lost,” I say and try shoving his bony neck back outside, gripping it with both hands.
“Dont be daft, Pete,” the stork coughs, “Just listen to me, eh?”
“You can talk now, can you?” I cant stop myself, “Another word and Ill tie your neck in a knot, you daft creature.”
“I came back to say sorry,” he insists.
“Bit late for apologies, you long-nosed bird.”
The doorbell sounds off insistently. Janes back.
“Off you go,” I tell the stork, finally managing to push him back onto the balcony. “Youd best be gone by the time I come back.”
I turn on autopilot toward the front door.
“Sorry, Peter!” the stork pokes his beak through the window, “Sorry! Ive tried to make things right.”
Jane bursts through the door, soaked but beaming, her hair sticking to her cheeks and her eyes shining. Did she spot the stork too?
Before I can say a word, she tosses her umbrella aside and throws her arms around my neck.
“Four! Four!” she shrieks at the top of her voice.
“Four what?” I stare at her, baffled.
“Four babies! Were having quadruplets!” She jumps up and down, unable to contain her excitement.
And suddenly, the storks words make perfect sense. I dash onto the balcony. The cross-eyed stork is just lifting off. I lunge, aiming for his tail.
Too late.
“Stop, you rascal!” I shout after him. “You, you long-beaked menace!”
“All fixed!” I hear from above.
I turn back around. Jane is standing there, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.
